


The Morning After

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluffy-ish, Implied Sexual Activity, That sounds like an IMDB parental guideline, cute people being gross and cute, hangovers, kind of gross, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7995613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know what’s good for hangovers?” Daisy asked. “Sex.”<br/>Phil snorted. “Yeah, sure.”<br/>Leaning back against the headboard, Daisy grabbed her phone.<br/>“Seriously,” she said, “I saw an article on Twitter about it.”<br/>“Always a reliable source.”<br/>She scrolled through for a bit but gave up; the screen was too small and glaring. She could have sworn she saw it recently though; it was one of those headlines that stuck with you. </p><p>Oh well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to give this impromptu prompt a go, of course. :)

**9:31 AM**

“Nooooo,” Daisy moaned quietly, opening her eyes just enough to see that the sun was up. Very up. She had been in this state enough times to know what it meant. Opening her eyes a little bit more, she could see that not only was the light from the sun streaming in the hotel room, but all of the lamps were on as well.

(That was a classic Drunk Daisy/Skye move: turn every available light on to avoid falling asleep before proper hangover prevention steps were taken. If all the lights were still on when she woke up, she knew she had failed.)

“Whas wrong?” The voice was muffled, its source hidden in the voluminous hotel feather comforter, but Daisy had a good idea who it was. Two disembodied hands reached up, pulling the blanket off of his face. Coulson scowled. “Oh, no,” he said, shutting his eyes.

“Yeah,” Daisy agreed, pushing the blankets away. She was starting to feel too warm, which was never a good sign. Letting the overly-air conditioned hotel room do its job she laid there, still as a statue. Maybe if she tricked her body into thinking she was still asleep, she wouldn’t get sick, right? Next to her Phil shuffled around, trying to find a comfortable position. “Can you stop?” She asked, feeling guilty but needing him to not move around so much anymore. “You’re rocking the boat.”

“Sorry,” Coulson muttered, and she could feel him carefully move to look at her. He paused. “Are you naked?”

Daisy cracked one eye open to look down. “Yup,” she said. That was another indicator; she never slept fully naked unless she was too drunk to care about putting on pjs. It was a mix of a modesty thing and also a long life of not knowing when she’d have to up and leave. Whether it was getting dragged out of bed for a mission in the middle of the night or having to hop in the driver’s seat of her van and book it, neither scenario went well if she was nude.

“Oh.”

It wasn’t that he’d never seen her naked before, but they just hadn’t quite taken _that_ step in their relationship yet, and the way things were looking now…

“We didn’t have sex,” Daisy told him flopping slightly on her side to face him. She winced at her stomach’s corresponding protest. _Easy does it,_ she told herself. _He’ll never have sex with you if you throw up on him. Probably. Maybe._

(He did love her _a lot_.)

“You’re sure?” Phil asked, looking slightly nervous. Or maybe that was just the nausea.

“Like...80 percent sure. 85.” She reached up and tried to smooth down a little tuft of hair of his that was sticking up, but her efforts were futile. She’d continue petting his head, but even that motion was too much for her body which did _not_ want to move. At all. Daisy gave up, letting her hand rest limply on the side of his head.  

“What did we drink last night?” Phil asked, closing his eyes but otherwise not seeming to mind the clammy palm on his temple.

“What _didn’t_ we drink last night?” Daisy retorted. “It was a nice party though, right?” She frowned. “I think I smacked Hunter, did that happen?”

Coulson’s eyes opened, and he looked at her confused. “Daisy we haven’t seen Hunter or Bobbi for almost two years.”

Daisy closed her eyes, trying to remember what happened. “Huh. Well I owe someone an apology then.”

Coulson made some noise she could have sworn was a laugh, but in their state she couldn’t fathom actually mustering the energy to laugh. _Wait_. She remembered something.

“We didn’t have sex,” she reiterated, looking over at Coulson. He nodded. “But I think you tried to go down on me. And fell on the floor.” It was coming back to her in pieces so she wasn’t entirely sure, but that seemed about right.

Coulson’s eyes widened before he looked at her accusingly. “Because you wouldn’t stop laughing at me!” His cheeks finally had a little red in them, which was a nice change from the green they had been so far.

“I’m sorry but to be fair it was really funny.” She grimaced. “And I need to stop talking.” Closing her eyes, Daisy took a few deep breaths. But the lights suddenly seemed brighter, as if they were shining right through her eyelids. “Too bright,” she groaned, and heard Coulson make a little agreeing noise.

“I’ll get them,” he said, slowly. She was wondering if maybe he was doing better than her, but it seemed like that wasn’t the case. “But not yet. Because if I get up now. I’m going to throw up. Everything.”

“Take your time,” Daisy said weakly, wishing she at least had the arm strength to lift the blanket above her head to block out those damn lights. _But that would be too hot,_ she thought, not relishing the idea of being warmer right now.

As if answering her prayers, a light, fluffy, cool pillow dropped on her face gently. “Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled. “I love you.”

“Mmm huh,” Coulson answered, and Daisy felt the bed creak. Nothing happened for a few moments, and she could imagine Phil steeling himself for the undesirable act of not only standing, but _walking_ around the room to shut off all the lights and close the blinds. He took a deep breath (or maybe she just imagined that) and there was a loud _thud_ as he deliberately rolled off the bed.

**10:05 AM**

“You know what they say is good for hangovers?” Daisy asked, not opening her eyes. She didn’t get an answer, so she reached out with her foot and lightly tapped Coulson on the shoulder. Well, she was trying for the shoulder but ended up getting his nose. From the other end of the bed he made a protesting noise. “Sorry.”

After eventually getting all the lights and shutting the blinds, poor Phil couldn’t bring himself to get into bed properly, instead just landing with his head at the foot of the bed and staying there.

“You know what’s good for hangovers?” Daisy asked again. “Sex.”

Phil snorted. “Yeah, sure,” he said, shifting around. Daisy carefully sat up, smiling when she realized he had moved until he was face down on the bed, arms at his sides. He certainly had a strange idea of ‘comfortable’ when he was like this. Leaning back against the headboard, Daisy grabbed her phone.

“Seriously,” she said, “I saw an article on Twitter about it.”

“Always a reliable source.”

She scrolled through for a bit but gave up, the screen was too small and glaring. She could have sworn she saw it recently though; it was one of those headlines that stuck with you. _Oh well._ Crawling over to the same end of the bed as Coulson, she dropped next to him.

“Hi.”

Phil rolled on his side just enough to look at her. “Hi.” He responded, looking amused despite himself. He’d grabbed a t-shirt to put on ( _he_ at least had the sense to leave his underwear on before passing out) while getting the blinds, and was kind enough to grab Daisy one of the fluffy hotel robes from the closet at her request. It added another five minutes or so to his journey, but he pulled through.

“So,” Daisy said, noting his confused features in the thankfully dim room. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

Phil looked at her incredulously. “Daisy. You want our--” she eagerly waited for him to say ‘first time.’ Not to make fun of him but...okay to make fun of him a bit. But she was disappointed. “--That isn’t going to happen when we’re like this.”

“I know that,” Daisy said, as if it were obvious. “I was just thinking maybe you could, you know,” she pointed downward innocently, making a little whistling noise. “Redeem yourself.”

There was a mix of emotions on Coulson’s face: embarrassment, nausea, arousal, maybe? And something else.

“I’m trying to put this in a way that won’t offend you,” he said delicately, and Daisy smirked.

“Let me guess,” she interrupted. “You don’t feel well enough to eat?”

Her grossness had its desired effect. Phil groaned, rolling over. “Daisy, that’s awful,” he said, shifting awkwardly until he fully turned his back on her.

“Hey, we said we wouldn’t hide from each other,” Daisy called, grabbing his shoulder and trying to pull him back. “That includes the boner you’re obviously trying to hide from me because you can’t handle my dirty talk.”

But it wasn’t her ‘dirty talk’ that he couldn’t handle, as Daisy saw him reach out for the hotel trash can and promptly throw up into it.

**10:11 AM**

“...We should talk about what just--”

“No.”

**12:00 PM**

“Nooope,” Daisy said, swiveling her head until her mouth was turned away from Coulson’s. After some sleep and some water and some more sleep, they were finally beginning to feel more human. And after some water, sleep and cuddling, Coulson was feeling very human.

“I brushed my teeth,” he (kind of) whined. “Twice.”

“Yeah,” Daisy agreed. “But I didn’t.”

**12:03 PM**

“Alright let’s do this.”

“Yay.”

**12:18 PM**

“How’s that?”

Daisy looked down, cocking an eyebrow. “You know it’s nice of you to ask but I feel like you’re just basically just fishing for compliments.”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Phil sent her a smug look. “So it was going to be a compliment.”

“Careful, do that too long and you might throw up again.”

“Dammit, Daisy.”

“I’m joking, please continue.” 

**1:06 PM**

“Huh,” Daisy said, and Coulson looked over from his spot in front of the coffee pot. The hotel they’d landed in was actually fairly swanky, so once he felt well enough he decided to brew one of the specialty blends they had in the room.

“What is it?” Phil asked, and Daisy let herself enjoy the view for a moment. At some point his shirt had come back off, and she couldn’t be happier. “Daisy?” He asked, smiling a little bit and shifting awkwardly. It was funny to think about the fact that the man she was currently ogling was getting so bashful when earlier he’d been anything but. She liked that about him.

“I found the article,” she said, waving her phone a bit. Coulson raised a curious eyebrow. “The one that said sex was good for hangovers?” She moved to the side a bit as he walked over, two coffee cups in hand. Accepting one, Daisy watched him take a sip and nod approvingly.

She took a sip of her own (with cream, good boy,) and although her coffee palate wasn’t as _refined_ as his, she agreed with him ‘mmm’ sentiment.

Rather than take the coffee as an incentive to finally ‘start’ their day, Coulson climbed back in bed, much to Daisy’s amusement. They sipped their coffee for a little longer before she brought it up again.

“So that article,” she began, and Phil looked at her confused before remembering.

“Right,” he said, sitting up more fully. “Did you come to the same conclusion?” Daisy raised an eyebrow at the (unintentional?) double entendre, and Coulson rolled his eyes. Spotting her robe at the end of the bed, Phil put his coffee on the bedside table and grabbed it, draping it over Daisy’s goosebump covered shoulders. Yeah, she liked him okay, Daisy thought as he rubbed her arms a little bit to warm them up before returning to his coffee.

“Funny story, it doesn’t work.”

Coulson paused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the writer tested it out and it didn't work,” she said, scrolling through the piece again with one hand, sipping her coffee with the other.

Phil narrowed his eyes. “Just how scientific was this study?” He asked, and Daisy snorted.

“It wasn’t a _study_ , this isn’t the journal of anthropological research or whatever. Just a woman and her boyfriend.” Coulson still looked skeptical. “Do you think her findings were wrong?”

“Do _you_?”

Daisy pretended to mull it over. “Well, I do feel better…” Truthfully, that could be the result of a number of factors. Rest, water, the five dollar crackers from the mini bar they regretfully opened. And even though it wasn’t their best work, fooling around was fun and took her mind off of all the other things that were going wrong. If there was one thing you could say about Phil Coulson, it was that he always tried his hardest. (Well, there were _a lot_ of things she could say about Phil Coulson. But that was definitely top five.) Daisy looked over at him, at his attempt at a nonchalant face. She put her phone down. “Agree to disagree.” An adorably relieved smile flooded his face, and for some reason Daisy felt the need to give him a friendly punch in the arm. Because she was totally chill like that.

“But maybe we should try again, just to be sure,” she added, and Phil frowned.

“Daisy I’m not drinking for at least a month--”

“That’s not-- _obviously_ , Coulson.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Just stop talking,” Daisy said, putting both of their coffees down before basically jumping on him and kissing him enthusiastically. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this was _the_ moment. Neither of them were sick or still drunk anymore, and they _were_ in a nice hotel. Coffee in bed counted as a romantic date, right? Besides, Phil was getting into it. His fingers dug into her sides a bit as he kissed her back, one hand moving to her back to pull her in closer to him. The robe he had so sweetly laid over her shoulders had slipped off to the side. Sure, they could both use a shower, but that could come after…

Then there was a knock on the door.  

“Come back later!” Daisy called, sitting back and taking a moment to run her fingers through his readily-available chest hair. There was another knock.

“Not now!” Coulson yelled, polite but slightly irritated in a way that made Daisy grin.

“What, no ‘please?’” She asked and Coulson sighed.

“Not now please!” He corrected before another knock even came. Daisy laughed, covering his mouth. “Thank you!” He tried to shout, but Daisy kept shushing him. If they were too obnoxious someone was totally going to come in and kick them out or something.

Hearing no response, the two waited a few more beats before Daisy sighed. “ _Finally,_ ” she said, leaning back over him.

Another knock.

“ _Seriously?!”_

“Just making sure you two are alive,” a voice said, muffled from beyond the door. “Sounds like you are, so…”

Daisy closed her eyes. “Mack?”

“Yeah?”

“Elena?”

“...Yes.”

Below her, Coulson’s hands covered his face. Sure, some people _knew_ about them, but they didn’t _know_. Which also made her wonder, how did they know where to find them? Daisy wasn’t sure she wanted to know that just yet, but a vague memory of showing Yo Yo her room key in the ladies room began to surface. Daisy covered her own eyes. “I think I gave her the extra one,” she whispered, but if he heard her Coulson didn’t show it.

“Let’s get dinner tonight, okay?” Daisy asked, and was met by confused silence. “We’ll meet you around six, I’ll send you a location later.”

“...Okay.”

“Please leave now.”

“Got it.”

“Divertíos!”

“We’re trying to,” Coulson answered, somewhat patiently. Whatever _that_ meant got a laugh out of Yo Yo and an audible sigh out of Mack on the other side of the door.

“Did you just make a dirty joke?” Daisy asked, and Phil shrugged. “I love you so much.”

“It wasn’t even--”

“Shhh, don’t ruin this for me.”


End file.
